


longing will be the helmsman

by hakyeonni



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Sailing, in which i know too much about boats, mermaid hongbin, mermaid/sailor au, sailor hakyeon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 06:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12151101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakyeonni/pseuds/hakyeonni
Summary: when hakyeon spies the mermaid sunbathing on the rocks, he thinks he has met his death—after all, no one sees mermaids and lives.how wrong he is.





	longing will be the helmsman

**Author's Note:**

> insert typical hakyeonni author's note in which I apologise for this getting so long, et cetera (no seriously I wanted this to be like 5k), I'll just shut up and let y'all enjoy this now, more detailed notes are at the end
> 
> this is based loosely in the 1800s sometime and set in a made-up fantasy land that was like England in my head but with warmer water.
> 
> (I am appalled there are not more mermaid aus in the vixx fandom!! this must be changed!!)

Hakyeon doesn’t think he is ready to meet his end—but then, does anyone?—until he sees him, lying on the rocks, the sunlight painting his skin ivory.

He knows what it means, of course—they all do. The actual sightings are so rare that they have become a legend, of sorts, in the village; stories told between children to frighten each other at night. He has certainly never seen one, and he doesn’t know of anyone who has. People who see them don’t generally live to tell the tale, so he just keeps his head down and pretends they didn’t exist. As they all did. It is all they _can_ do.

There’s none of that now, though; it’s too late for that. He gets to his feet, the fish he’d been gutting slipping onto the deck—today’s catch was quite plentiful, not that it matters now—and faces his death. The mermaid is quite pretty, in an otherworldly way; his scales are a soft pink, blending into a pale purple where his tail meets his decidedly human waist, and his face looks like a sculpture of a greek god Hakyeon had seen once in a book. He’s propped up on his elbows, his tail dangling into the water below as he looks up at the sun, and Hakyeon thinks it’s at least a small consolation to know that if he never sees the shore again, this is the last face he will look upon.

“Small consolation indeed,” he mutters to himself with a snort.

The creature looks up at that, startled, and before Hakyeon can say a damn thing he rolls onto his side, the movement surprisingly ungraceful for a creature renowned for just that. And then with a shout that becomes a shriek of pain, he slides down the rocks face-first into the water and floats there, not moving, not even twitching.

Hakyeon doesn’t even hesitate. He knows that the sight of a mermaid means certain death, but no one knows whether they’re just a terrible omen or actual murderous creatures, and he certainly isn’t going to wait around to find out. His feet slipping on the damp of the deck, he scrambles back to the steering wheel and points the boat into the wind, his heart racing. If he can just get away—he’s not that far from home—he might be able to make it—he could _live_ —

When he turns back to look at the mermaid, though, the rope for the mainsail taut in his hands as he prepares to hoist it, he hesitates.

The mermaid is still floating there, face-down in the water; there’s a strange black substance floating in the water around him, and Hakyeon realises with horror that that must be his _blood_. Oh, Gods. He won’t drown—obviously—but he must have sliced himself open when he fell off the rocks. He’ll probably bleed out. That is, if mermaids _can_ bleed out. Oh, hell.

“Hakyeon,” he says to himself, very sternly as he turns back towards the direction of home. “You want to live. There are probably more of them out there, waiting to drag you under. It’s not worth the risk. He is probably immortal. He will probably be fine.”

But the mermaid isn’t moving.

Hakyeon can’t leave him there to _die_. He just can’t. That would be akin to murder, surely? And Hakyeon is many things, but a murderer he is most definitely not, and he knows that if he heads home now he will not be able to live with himself. Mermaids are omens of death, sure, but they are sentient. They live and they breathe, and Hakyeon hates the way he turns back to look at him, his heart in his throat, hoping he’ll move. He doesn’t move.

“Gods,” he mutters, and drops the rope. It’s not really a prayer, not really. He’s speaking to himself at this point. “Please don’t let him kill me.”

In one smooth moment, he pulls his shirt over his head and dives over the side of the boat into the water. It’s pleasantly cool, a balm to the sting of the sun burning bright overhead, and he just tries to think about that as he strikes out towards the mermaid. He rarely goes swimming these days—most of his time is spent on the water rather than in it—but he used to do it all the time as a child, and he didn’t realise how much he missed it until now.

The mermaid doesn’t move as Hakyeon reaches him and touches him on the arm hesitantly. To the touch, his skin feels remarkably warm and human, and somewhat soft. Hakyeon doesn’t really know what to do with that information. He’d sort of expected him to be cold and slimy, like a toad. “Uh,” he says, trying to distract himself. “Mermaid? You need to wake up.”

He still does not stir, so Hakyeon holds his breath and turns him over so he’s face up and winces. The rocks did more damage than he realised; there’s several deep gashes in the mermaid’s human-looking chest. The only thing that’s completely foreign is the black blood that’s oozing out of him—not to mention the tail, but Hakyeon’s trying to ignore that as best he can—and, wonderingly, Hakyeon touches a trail of it that’s running down the mermaid’s chest. It’s thick and sticky, thicker than human blood, and cold. What on earth...? “Mermaid.” He tries again, splashing a bit of water onto the mermaid’s face. “Please wake up.”

Another splash of water to the mermaid’s face does nothing, as does the pinch that Hakyeon gives him on the arm; he is dead to the world, and Hakyeon has to check whether he’s actually breathing to make sure he’s even still alive. He feels for a pulse, but there is none. Whether that’s a mermaid characteristic or a bad sign, he has no clue. He feels so bloody helpless.

“Alright,” he says to the lifeless body with a sigh. “I’m going to put you on the boat, and then I’ll decide what to do with you.”

At least if he’s on the boat he’s not treading water that’s filled with not only other mermaids but also sharks (that is if they’re attracted to this strange blood), and he longs for the feel of the deck underneath his feet again. He takes the mermaid’s wrist and swim-drags him back to the boat, hauling himself upwards before leaning down and hooking his hands underneath the mermaid’s armpits and pulling—Gods, he’s heavy, heavier than he looks, and Hakyeon grunts with the effort of it.

And then, of course, the mermaid wakes up.

With another shriek, this one right in Hakyeon’s ear, he starts writhing furiously in Hakyeon’s arms. This has the opposite effect that he intended, however, because his tail is still in the water—so they’re both propelled backwards, Hakyeon slamming onto his back on the deck, the mermaid’s torso on his legs. “Hey, hey,” he starts, sitting up and scrambling away, eyes wide. “Are you all right?”

He’s wide-eyed and quite clearly terrified, so Hakyeon doesn’t make any attempts to come closer. Not that he particularly wants to, anyway. He reminds Hakyeon so much of a spooked horse that he shivers—he’ll never forget the nasty kick one of his sister’s horses gave him when he was younger, and he’d learnt to stay away from them since. The mermaid scrambles back too, so he’s pressed up against the stern, panting and shaking, looking at Hakyeon like he’s a monster.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Hakyeon says, because he’s _not_. He wants to get this thing off his boat, sure, but he’s not going to resort to violence in order to do so. “I just wanted to help you.”

“Your kind does not help,” the mermaid says, and Hakyeon’s breath hitches in his chest. Not only is his voice rhythmic, with a foreign cadence that sounds sing-song to Hakyeon’s ears, it’s heavily accented with tones he cannot identify. It’s foreign and delicious and Hakyeon wants to fall head-first into it and swim into its depths. “Your kind has _never_ helped.”

Hakyeon resists the urge to roll his eyes and instead comes forward onto his knees, palms out placatingly, moving slowly in case the mermaid freaks out again. “Well, I’m an anomaly,” he says, and bites his lip when the mermaid furrows his brow, not knowing the word. It’s… strangely cute, actually. “I promise I just wanted to help you. It’s my fault you scraped your chest, after all. I just… didn’t want to leave you like that.” He runs a hand through his hair, exasperated. Words are suddenly hard to form. “You’re bleeding.”

The mermaid looks down at his chest for the first time, and inhales raggedly when he sees the wounds. “Ah,” he says, and then groans. “Ah.”

It’s so strangely human that when the mermaid looks up again, Hakyeon is grinning at him, and he smiles back as if on instinct. At first Hakyeon is too busy lost in the way the mermaid’s eyes disappear when he smiles—it’s so bright it’s like the sun is shining out of his face—to notice his mouth, but when he does he freezes, his smile dying. “You…” he breathes, and then crawls a step closer, unable to help himself. “You have _fangs_.” Four of them, right where his canines should be, long and pointy and terrifying.

The mermaid shuts his mouth with a snap, and if Hakyeon’s not mistaken, there’s a faint hint of colour in his cheeks not unlike a blush. “You _don’t_ ,” he replies, making it clear that this is new information for him, too. He pauses, shifts, his tail making a wet _slap_ sound on the deck. “You, ah, you are the first two-legged I have seen.”

“You’re the first mermaid I’ve seen,” Hakyeon whispers, his eyes wide.

They stay there like that for a few moments more, taking each other in. Now that Hakyeon has the chance, he can notice small details about the mermaid that he couldn’t before: although his chest is heaving as he breathes, there’s a set of gills on his ribs, either side of his chest. The scales of his tail are even more beautiful up close; iridescent, catching the sun and reflecting rainbows into his eyes, and Hakyeon longs to touch. What would they feel like? Slimy, like he’d expected the mermaid’s skin to feel like? Or smooth? Soft, even?

He then realises that he’s been staring unabashedly and has the gall to blush, rocking back on his heels. “Um, do you have a name?” he asks, figuring it’s better than referring to him as just ‘the mermaid’.

“I am Hongbin,” the mermaid replies, his accent rounding the vowels and clipping the consonants. “And you?”

With a smile, Hakyeon leans forward, hand outstretched. “A pleasure to meet you, Hongbin. I’m Hakyeon.”

Hongbin regards Hakyeon’s hand for a long while before placing his own in it, his grip firm and warm. The act of doing so, however, makes him wince, fresh blood streaming down his chest, and Hakyeon narrows his eyes. “Will you let me bandage that wound?” he finds himself asking before he can even think through the words. “I’m pretty sure I have some bandages around here somewhere. It, ah, it’s kind of strange to have you bleeding all over my deck.”

He doesn’t even wait for Hongbin’s response before getting to his feet, reaching for the shirt that he’d discarded and pulling it over his head—he doesn’t miss Hongbin’s eyes watching him as he goes—before turning to head below decks. “All right,” Hongbin replies quietly.

It’s probably a bad idea—what he should be doing right now is picking Hongbin up by the tail and throwing him back in the water. But he’s hurting, clearly, and terrified. Hakyeon cannot bring himself to just let him go, not when he’s still bleeding. It was his fault, after all. The least he can do is try and fix his mistakes.

Sure enough, there’s a roll of bandages stashed below deck—his sister has probably put them there, worrier as she is—and he fetches them. He hesitates when he sees his water canteen hanging out of the little hammock he’s strung up, before shaking his head. Mermaids probably don’t drink water. Or maybe they do?

“This is all I have,” he says apologetically as he comes up again. Hongbin hasn’t moved except to sit up a little more, but Hakyeon can recognise the pain that’s etched in his face. “I, uh, don’t know how your kind heal wounds down there. But this is how we do it. If you were on land the doctor would have to do this. I am not a doctor, obviously.” He tends to babble when he gets nervous, and he is certainly nervous enough now; he edges closer and closer to Hongbin until he’s kneeling in front of him, close enough to touch. Hongbin’s face is still wet, his eyelashes beading with water, and Hakyeon bites his lip. “I didn’t realise your kind bled black,” he says, and then kicks himself. What an idiotic thing to say!

Hongbin screws up his face, confused, and then hisses in pain when Hakyeon presses a wad of bandages against the deepest cut, trying to stem the flow of the blood. “I did not realise two-leggeds bled different, either,” he chokes out around gritted teeth. Those fangs, alarmingly close to Hakyeon’s face now, are so strange he can’t quite keep his eyes off them. “And we use kelp. To dress wounds.”

“Kelp, huh?” Hakyeon murmurs, unwinding the roll and passing it around Hongbin’s chest, over his nipples, back around again. “I don’t know if I have any of that on board. Maybe I brought some in with the fish. You’re welcome to dig through the pile and look.”

That causes Hongbin to laugh, a laugh that turns into a wheeze as Hakyeon moves on to dressing the next wound. He moves quickly and with nimble fingers. Being this close to a mermaid is, quite frankly, disconcerting. He doesn’t think Hongbin is about to lean forward and sink his fangs into him, but how is he to know? He could be the most murderous creature Hakyeon has ever seen and he would have no idea. By the time he finishes and sits back, most of Hongbin’s torso is swathed in white bandages slowly being stained a slate grey, and they’re both breathing heavily. “There,” he declares, wiping the sweat from his brow and narrowing his eyes. “It’s not the prettiest, but it will do the job.”

“Thank you.” Hongbin sounds stiff, the words foreign from his lips—if Hakyeon would have to guess, he would assume Hongbin isn’t used to thanking humans in English. How did he learn English, anyway? He has so many questions, but he doesn’t know where to begin. Just because he did Hongbin a favour does not mean he gets the right to be rude, but the curiosity is burning in him. Hongbin certainly doesn’t _seem_ dangerous. Maybe he is an anomaly, too? “May I sit here a moment? I’m not sure I’m well enough to move, yet.”

“Of course,” Hakyeon says, and then backs away to give him privacy.

He busies himself with normal things, things he could do in his sleep. He puts down anchor—they’ve already drifted quite a way from the rocks that Hongbin fell from, and he figures it’s best to stay in the area. He tidies away the rest of the bandages. He takes a seat near the bow and continues gutting the fish, letting his mind go perfectly blank. All through this he avoids looking at Hongbin; he figures he hates being stared at when he’s hurting, and it’s bad enough to be hurting in a strange place with strange company, so he lets it be. When that’s finished he goes back downstairs and takes a swig of water before, ever-so-carefully, marking his position on a navigational chart. He somehow doesn’t want to forget what happened today.

By the time he makes his way back upstairs again, Hongbin is sitting up properly and looks considerably brighter. “Hakyeon,” he calls, and Hakyeon turns to him. It’s the first time Hongbin has said his name, and it sends a delicious slow shiver down his spine. He’s never heard anything quite like that before. It’s intoxicating, as much as he finds it strange to admit it so. “I… Thank you. For helping me. Most humans would not be so kind.”

“It’s fine.” Hakyeon shrugs and eyes the bandages. They seemed to have stopped turning grey. “Are you feeling better?”

Hongbin nods and smiles up at Hakyeon, and Hakyeon smiles back, despite himself and despite those fangs. “Absolutely. I will get out of your way, now.”

Before Hakyeon can say anything, Hongbin hauls himself up onto the lip of the ship—his arms are stronger than they look, Hakyeon realises with a flash of what could be fear—and tips backwards into the water. He looks at home there as he runs a hand through his hair, wiping water from his face and grinning up at Hakyeon once more. It’s not that he was clumsy on the ship, but more that he didn’t quite know what to do with his body; even like this, floating alongside the ship, Hakyeon can tell he is a force to be reckoned with. “Thank you again, Hakyeon. I hope I see you around.”

“And you, Hongbin,” Hakyeon replies, and salutes loosely as Hongbin turns and, with a flick of his gorgeous tail, disappears.

Hakyeon stands there for what seems like hours but really must be a few minutes, staring into the aquamarine of the water like it can give him answers. Eventually he turns and heads to the front of the ship to weigh anchor, smiling to himself as he goes. His sisters are _never_ going to believe this.

//

For all of Hakyeon’s anticipation, the next day when he goes out he does not see Hongbin, even though he returns to that same spot. The same happens the day after that, and the day after that, and then the days stretch into weeks, which stretch into months. Hongbin is never far from his mind when he’s on the water, but he sees neither hide nor hair of him, or of any other mermaid—and slowly, as the months pass, the memory fades from something vivid, something he couldn’t stop telling anyone he met about, to something just as precious but well-worn, faded. Sometimes he thinks he sees the flick of an iridescent tail off his bow, but most of the time he dismisses it as wishful thinking.

If he’s being honest with himself, he’s not entirely sure why he wants to see Hongbin again. Their two species are, of course, enemies; Hakyeon had become sort of a legend in the village for a while because he survived their encounter unscathed, or he did to the ones who believed him. Most of the wizened old fishermen just rolled their eyes at him when he’d told them the story, and he didn’t blame them. It was incredulous to him too. But despite all that he still finds himself looking at every rock formation he passes on the way out of their little bay, just in case Hongbin has picked one of them to sun himself on. He never has, and the taste of disappointment stings exquisitely every time.

“Where are you going?”

He turns to his father and shrugs. “For a sail.”

“It’s nearly sunset.” That’s his mother, looking up from stoking the fire, kneeling at his father’s feet. His oldest sister is next to her, darning a sock, and she looks up too. “Why on earth are you going at this time?”

Hakyeon resists the urge to ball his fists. He’s more than old enough to move out—as his mother loves to remind him at every opportunity—but he simply cannot afford it. He doesn’t earn enough money selling the fish he catches for that; the entire family relies on him, since his father cannot work. An easy way out would be to marry, but he isn’t interested in that in the slightest. He just tries to ignore the way he’s regarded as the male equivalent of the village spinster and goes about his days, handing over what meagre earnings he receives to his mother. “Because I want to,” is all he says, and slams the front door behind him.

 _Twenty-four this year and she still treats me like I’m eight_ , he thinks as he makes his way out the front gate. Their little house stands on top of the cliff overlooking the bay and he instinctively makes his way towards the well-worn path down the side of the cliff face without even thinking about it. He’s been coming this way since he could walk, and the moment he was strong enough to haul a rope his father took him sailing and he hadn’t stopped since; every part of this place screams _home_ , or it should. Right now all he feels is a queer restlessness; it winds through his bones, beats in his blood, tugging him towards the sea. He so rarely gets in moods like this, but when he does it’s nearly impossible to resist the call of the ocean.

He hurries down the last of the path and across the sand to the pier, making a beeline for his boat. _Selkie_ —a thirty-six foot smack with mahogany sails—is technically his father's, but he hasn’t stepped foot on her deck in years, so Hakyeon considers her his own. She’s a bit too big for him to be sailing her by himself, really, but Hakyeon manages; he doesn’t trust anyone else with her, and his sisters were never interested in learning. He slips onto her deck and starts preparing her to sail, running back and forth, tugging ropes this way and that and enjoying the feel of the burn in his muscles. Sometimes the atmosphere in their little house is so stifling that he needs this, needs it more than he’d like to admit; the sea wind on his face soothes a part of his soul that he isn’t tuned into most of the time.

By the time he’s sailing through the mouth of the bay, the sky is bathed in the beautiful reds and oranges of the setting sun, and he lets himself relax. When he’s out here fishing he has a job to do—he must always be thinking about where he will find the best catch, when to drop the nets, when to adjust the sails to keep them heading towards the schools of fish. When he’s out here alone, however, sailing for the fun of it—well, that’s the definition of freedom, in his eyes.

He subconsciously sets a path for Hongbin’s rocks (that’s what they’ve become, in his head: _Hongbin’s Rocks_. He’d even marked them on the chart like that) and sits back to let the ship sail herself. By the time he’s nearing the rocks, his soul is soothed, and he can’t stop himself for smiling for no reason whatsoever. The sun has long since set and the moon is up now, hanging low and swollen in the sky, lighting the way enough for him to see the rocks coming up in front of him and giving him enough time to lower the mainsail and head up towards the bow to drop anchor. He doesn’t want to do anything in particular, since it’s pretty clear by now that Hongbin isn’t coming. But it’ll be nice to just sit here and listen to the water lapping against the hull, to repair a net to keep his hands busy, to think about everything and nothing at all.

He’s just laid hands on the thick chain of the anchor and is preparing to loose it from its position against the hull when he hears it—a splash, too big to be that of a fish. He freezes. Seal, shark, bird—mermaid? It could be any of those things, but when he scans the water around him he sees nothing.

And then there’s another splash from the back of the boat, a much louder one—it sounds like the way Hongbin’s tail had smacked against the water when Hakyeon had been hauling him onboard.

A hiss. The low rumble of laughter echoing across the water. Another splash.

His feet slipping on the deck, he scrambles back towards where he knows he’d dropped his knife, right next to the wheel, trying desperately to tamp down panic as he does. Hongbin might not have wanted to hurt him, but these creatures do; that laugh was nothing but predatory, and the hairs on the back of his neck are standing on end.

He doesn’t even make it that far, though. Rising out of the water like some kind of demon comes a female mermaid, fangs bared and hair pushed back from her face. Hakyeon can do nothing but stare as she hauls herself up the steps at the back of the boat, grabbing the railings and pulling herself onboard with no trouble at all, hissing horribly as she goes. She’s wearing absolutely nothing and seems to be completely unconcerned that her breasts are bare in the moonlight, and Hakyeon sways slightly on his feet. Is that _really_ the first thing he thinks of?

There’s another laugh and a yip from starboard, and when he looks over he sees another mermaid, this one male, hauling himself up the side of the ship hand-over-fist. Any other time he would marvel at their strength—he’d felt how heavy Hongbin was, and for them to just lift themselves out of the water like it’s nothing would be breathtaking if it wasn’t terrifying—but right now he’s too concerned with living, so he dives for the knife and brandishes it as the male mermaid hauls himself over the top of the railing and slams onto the deck. His heart is thrumming so fast he thinks he’s going to keel over and wishes that maybe he would. It would be more pleasant than whatever these two have in store for him.

“Come on,” he roars, taking a step forward and slashing at the air, making them both flinch. They have no weapons, but between their fangs and their strength, they clearly don’t need any.

The male mermaid laughs, a horrible gravelly sound from deep in his throat, and pushes himself forward—the female mermaid resumes hissing and does the same—Hakyeon balances on the balls of his feet and prepares to stab whichever one reaches him first—

And then, exploding out of the water with a righteous roar that stops Hakyeon’s heart entirely, comes Hongbin.

The mermaids immediately turn away from Hakyeon, but they move too slowly; in a second Hongbin has grabbed the male by the tail and dragged him back in the water before rounding on the woman. Her, he grabs by the hair, and Hakyeon winces as she’s yanked back into the sea, screeching as she goes. The male says something in his language, something Hakyeon can’t catch, and Hongbin shakes his head. “I don’t care what your reasons are. You are not allowed to hunt two-leggeds in this area.”

The woman replies in their language, and Hakyeon realises, with a shock, that Hongbin is speaking in English for his benefit. What the hell? “I said you’re forbidden!” Hongbin snarls, rising up out of the water, looking so angry Hakyeon takes a step back unthinkingly. “Do not let me see you here again, or there will be consequences beyond this.”

With a quiet splash, the two mermaids sink into the water and disappear, and Hakyeon drops the knife. “What the fuck was that?” he mutters, sinking to the ground where he stands, his legs unable to hold him any longer.

He doesn’t offer Hongbin any help as he clambers aboard—it’s not like he needs it, anyway. He moves across the deck easily (it’s almost slithering, using his arms to drag himself forward), an expression of nothing but concern on his face, but still Hakyeon flinches when he gets close. “They are not friends of mine, I can assure you,” Hongbin replies grimly, folding his tail over and sitting on the end so he can reach for Hakyeon. “Did they hurt you?”

“No,” he whispers, but lets Hongbin check him for injuries anyway. Their positions are so reversed from the last time that it’s all he can do to sway on the spot, hyper-aware of how close Hongbin is, how he can see his gills opening and closing in the air. It’s strange, but it’s not the strangest thing that’s happened, so he doesn’t say a word. “No, they didn’t touch me. They were just about to, though.”

Hongbin leans back and folds his hands in his lap—is it even considered a lap, Hakyeon wonders—primly, his lips pressed in a thin line. “I apologise. I never would have expected such a brazen attack to occur in a restricted area like this.”

Hakyeon has so many questions he doesn’t even know where to begin, but he starts with the most obvious one. “You said they were… hunting? Hunting _me?”_

“Not you in particular.” Hongbin shrugs apologetically. “Two-leggeds in general. It wasn’t personal.”

“Gee, thanks,” Hakyeon drawls sarcastically, leaning back and putting space between them. At least he’s starting to get feeling back in his legs. Soon he might even be able to stand up again. “That makes me feel so much better.”

A flash of a familiar emotion crosses Hongbin’s face—anger, it’s _anger_ , and his nostrils flare. “I am not sure if you are aware of the history between our species, but I can assure you that any sane two-legged would have killed me that day we first met instead of trying to help me. Two-leggeds are a threat to us.”

At that Hakyeon’s temper spikes, and he scrambles to his feet, scooping up the knife. Hongbin flinches, but he does nothing except stalk over to the wheel to put distance between them before shoving it back on his belt. “Oh, I am _so_ sorry for trying to save your life, since in your eyes that makes me insane,” he replies, folding his arms and leaning against the wheel. “But then, what does that make you?”

Hongbin doesn’t even justify that with a reply. He simply narrows his eyes and turns and, quick as lightning, slips off the boat into the water without another word. Hakyeon simmers in his anger for another second before realising, belatedly, that having Hongbin in front of him again is everything he’s been hoping for for the past few months and scrambles after him. He’s swimming slowly up the length of the ship, and Hakyeon follows him desperately. “Hongbin, hang on, wait.” Hongbin doesn’t even look over his shoulder. “Hey, listen, Hongbin—oh, for the Gods’ sakes, stop being juvenile.” He’s poised at the bow of the ship now, clinging onto the ropes of the foresail, balancing on the bowsprit. “Hongbin! I’m sorry.”

That makes Hongbin turn, and he rolls onto his back, arms folded as he floats. “Are you?”

“Yes.” Hongbin just raises an eyebrow, and he sighs. “I _am_. I’m not used to having my life threatened, is all. I’m not used to seeing you again. But I’m not ungrateful.” At this he sinks down to sit on the bowsprit, his legs dangling on either side of it. “So, thank you.”

“Consider my debt repaid,” Hongbin replies, and when he shifts in the light Hakyeon can see the silvery threads of scars on his chest, no doubt from the very same wounds he’d bandaged.

“You were never indebted to me,” Hakyeon says quietly, and Hongbin stills in the water. “I didn’t do what I did expecting reciprocation.”

“No, but aren’t you glad you did?” This Hakyeon can recognise as teasing, albeit stilted, and he cracks a smile at Hongbin’s effort.

 _Yes_ , Hakyeon thinks out loud as he smiles down at Hongbin. While in the sunlight he was beautiful, in the moonlight he’s practically otherworldly, and he is completely entranced at the way his tail swishes in the water. The pinks and purples of his scales are muted, bathed in the milky glow of the moonlight, and Hakyeon once again wishes he could touch them and see what they feel like. Some abstract part of him—a very far away part of him—knows that he and Hongbin are enemies by way of birth, but most of him just doesn’t care. Hongbin is his friend. “Where have you been?” he blurts, unable to stop another question bursting free.

Hongbin looks mildly surprised at that, but he sighs, and if Hakyeon isn’t reading into things too much (as he tends to do) it’s a sad sigh. “Hakyeon, you’re a two-legged. I’m a môr-forwyn,” he explains, and Hakyeon screws up his face at the foreign word. “Our kind has been killing each other since the dawn of time. There is no point pretending we can be friends.”

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, why not?”

Hakyeon shrugs, holding his hands out. “Why can’t we be friends? I’m not going to kill you, and I don’t think you’re going to kill me. So what is the issue?” Hongbin doesn’t say anything until he smiles wickedly. “Besides, aren’t you curious about humans?”

That gets his attention. “Yes,” he replies guardedly, “but I do not think it’s a good idea—”

“I’ll answer any question you have about us,” he says, and then slams his mouth shut. He hadn’t meant to say that, but considering he’s basically begging to spend more time with Hongbin—well, it’s not like it matters in the grand scheme of things. He somehow doubts Hongbin is about to run off and tell all the human secrets, and anyway, he doesn’t know anything important. “I just… I don’t have many friends back home.” Any friends, really. “And you’re really interesting. I’m curious.”

Hongbin’s mouth quirks up into a dry smile. “I am not that interesting, I can promise you,” he says, but he swims closer and touches the hull of the boat, running his fingers over the letters and mouthing them to himself. “Fine. I will not stay away from you any longer.”

“Great!” Hakyeon says, and scrambles to his feet. He pulls his shirt over his head and only stands there for a moment, grinning at Hongbin, before taking a running swan-dive into the water. When he surfaces Hongbin’s looking at him with a raised eyebrow, and he snorts when Hakyeon shakes his head and sprays water everywhere. “Hey,” he whispers, because Hongbin is even more beautiful up close in the moonlight and he thanks the Gods he isn’t standing up.

“Hello,” Hongbin replies courteously, and, moving slowly, reaches out and brushes some of Hakyeon’s hair away from his eyes. He drops his hand almost instantly and it hits the water with a smack, but Hakyeon’s too busy staring to pay attention to that. The touches earlier on the boat were clinical. This is anything but, and he nearly forgets how to breathe. “One thing I was always curious about is how long two-leggeds can hold their breath for,” he continues, but Hakyeon notices there’s a blush rising on his cheeks.

He nearly laughs. He’d expected Hongbin to ask something about human society, or about sailing, or about the food they eat; this is the most innocuous, innocent question he’s ever heard, and it endears Hongbin to him even more. “About two minutes, give or take.”

Hongbin raises his eyebrows. “Is that it?”

“Hey, not all of us have the advantage of lungs—” Feeling bold, Hakyeon presses a hand to Hongbin’s chest, over his heart, “— _and_ gills.” At this he slides his hand down to the side, running them over Hongbin’s gills and feeling him jump. His hand ends up on Hongbin’s waist, just above where his tail meets his skin, and he pauses. “My turn for a question. Can I feel your tail?”

It’s not the most orthodox of questions, and he half expects Hongbin to say no. Instead he rolls onto his back and folds his arms behind his head. “Sure.”

Now that he’s actually faced with the damn thing, he doesn’t quite know where to start. It ties in at Hongbin’s waist beautifully, thickens slightly at what would be his hips, and then tapers down towards the end where it flares out into a gorgeous fin, thin and gossamer and swaying gently in the water. Even without touching it he can tell it’s incredibly muscular, probably moreso than his own legs, and he takes a deep breath in.

At first he just splays a hand on somewhere that would be the equivalent of a knee, figuring that’s a safe enough place and not really knowing what kind of touch is acceptable. He’d expected the scales to be slimy or cold, but they are smooth, silky even, and he shudders. If he runs his hands upwards, towards Hongbin’s chest, the scales are rough (it reminds him of the feeling of a shark’s skin—once his father had caught one with the fish), but if he runs it back down again it’s soft, the touch somewhat soothing. “Wow,” he breathes, and then looks up at Hongbin, who is looking at him with a completely unreadable expression on his face. “Wow. I didn’t… I didn’t think it would feel like _that_.”

“Me neither,” Hongbin whispers, and Hakyeon blushes and takes his hands away.

For a moment they just float there, lost in their respective heads. That had been much more intimate than Hakyeon was expecting—not that he’s complaining, of course. But he’s pretty sure that’s the closest any human has been to a mermaid in recent history, perhaps ever, and he feels like he should be getting quite excited over it. Instead all he can think of how nice it had felt and how much he wants to do it again. “Your turn for a question,” he mutters, not looking at Hongbin.

“Alright,” says Hongbin, quietly, and Hakyeon lifts his head. “Why didn’t you kill me that day?”

Hakyeon wrestles with that for a moment. If he’s being truthful with himself, he doesn’t know, and doesn’t know how to tell Hongbin that. “I have been on the water since I could walk,” he says truthfully, figuring the truth is a good place to start. “I could swim before I could read. All of us grew up hearing how bloodthirsty your kind is, how you would kill us instantly if given the chance, how dangerous you were. But you didn’t look dangerous, that day. You looked… helpless. I knew you wouldn’t drown, but I didn’t just want to _leave_ you there. That would be murder, I guess. And I don’t think I have it in me to be a murderer. It was my fault you fell, after all.” He takes a big breath in and lets it out, sinking down into the water so just his face is visible. “And I was curious.”

There’s a long silence before Hongbin replies, rolling over so his head and shoulders are visible above the water, his expression very serious. “I am glad you did,” he says, and then looks at the sky. “I will admit, I am curious about you as well.”

“About me? Or about humans?”

Hongbin meets his gaze evenly. “About you.”

Hakyeon tries to tamp down the blush that creeps up his neck, but he’s not sure he succeeds.

//

They settle into somewhat of a disjointed routine after that.

Necessity states that Hakyeon only needs to be on the water three times a week or so, but he finds himself heading out nearly every day, ignoring the pointed looks his parents give him. Most days he doesn’t even fish. He simply sails to Hongbin’s Rocks and they talk. Sometimes he’ll float with Hongbin but most of the time Hongbin comes on board—Hakyeon keeps refilling a bucket of water for him to pour over himself (“my skin needs to be wet,” he’d explained, nose wrinkled, “or else bad things happen.” He hadn’t explained what bad things, and Hakyeon hadn’t pressed)—and they sit and talk about everything and nothing. Hongbin’s questions range from the ordinary and mundane—how do two-leggeds get from place to place, if they can’t swim everywhere? (“Horses”) What are horses? (“Four-legged animals”) Does Hakyeon have a horse? (“No, my family is too poor”) How does he earn money? (“Selling fish”) How many people are there in his family? (“Five”)—to the more fantastical, and it’s these that Hakyeon enjoys the most. He wants to know about the Gods, about ethics, about morals, and it’s not long before his questions turn biological in nature.

Of course, Hakyeon has been getting a lot out of this deal, too; he’s learnt so much about mermaid culture that it’s hard to remember it all sometimes. It’s so foreign to him that he doesn’t try to understand. From what he can gather, they’re organised in groups of loose ‘kingdoms’, each with strictly defined territory and an even stricter defined hierarchy (Hongbin doesn’t say much, but Hakyeon has figured out that he seems to be towards the top of the ladder). While mermaids aren’t immortal as he’d previously thought, they live for hundreds and hundreds of years—apparently the eldest elder in Hongbin’s community is over a thousand years old (“I’m only a hundred,” Hongbin had said, somewhat sheepishly, and Hakyeon had nearly fallen overboard) which isn’t uncommon at all. He hasn’t touched on the difficulties between their two species, but that’s a topic they’re both staying away from, for obvious reasons. It’s better to let sleeping dogs lie.

“That’s strange,” Hongbin huffs, and drops Hakyeon’s feet.

Hakyeon’s surprised it took Hongbin this long to ask to see his legs. He’d wanted to see Hongbin’s tail the first time they started this game, after all. But Hongbin seemed to be more curious about human society first, and Hakyeon can’t blame him. Sometimes he doesn’t understand it either.

“I didn’t call your tail strange,” he points out, wiggling his toes furiously and laughing at the expression on Hongbin’s face. They’re stretched out on the deck, Hakyeon’s feet in Hongbin’s lap, the sun beating down on them in the most pleasant of ways. “I don’t think you’re being very fair to my poor toes.”

“That’s because my tail is not strange. My tail is glorious.” As if to punctuate his point, he leans back and smacks Hakyeon in the side with it, sending him toppling over. It’s playful, but sometimes he forgets how strong he is. “Sorry. Can I see your legs again?”

Obligingly, Hakyeon extends them into his lap once more. This time Hongbin palpates his knees, laughing when Hakyeon squirms. “Why are they _hairy?_ ” he huffs, and then jabs his fingers directly below Hakyeon’s kneecap. The reaction is instantaneous. Without Hakyeon having any control over it, his leg flies up and kicks Hongbin in the head, and things go downhill from there. Hongbin dumps the bucket of water on Hakyeon as revenge, which leads to Hakyeon trying his damnedest to tickle Hongbin, to no avail.

Eventually when they’ve settled—and when he’s refilled the water bucket—Hakyeon remembers Hongbin’s question and shrugs in lieu of an answer. “I don’t know. Humans have hair. You, apparently, don’t.” Hongbin’s body is smooth and hairless, which makes sense; he needs to be streamlined in the water. He’s constantly reminded that although Hongbin appears (mostly) human from the waist up, he is really anything but.

“Except for on my head,” Hongbin points out, and then runs his hand up Hakyeon’s thigh.

He’s wearing his favourite pair of sailing shorts, ones that his mother has patched up over and over at his insistence even though he could stretch to go to the tailor’s for another pair, and they’re rather short. Hongbin’s hand ends up inching up the material, stroking Hakyeon’s leg hair, and he grits his teeth and flares his nostrils. What the—

And then Hongbin leans in even closer and strokes Hakyeon’s belly right above his waistband, his expression full of innocence and wonderment, his fingers tugging at the hairs below his bellybutton. He clearly has no idea what he’s doing, and the fact that Hakyeon is finding this arousing is, well—he shouldn’t be. He really shouldn’t be. Hongbin is male. Hongbin is male and a _mermaid_ , something he is painfully aware of. But he can’t help his body’s biological response, and right when Hongbin goes to stroke his belly once more Hakyeon catches his wrist and forces his hand away. “Hongbin, stop,” he hisses, and Hongbin looks up in shock.

“Did I hurt you?” Hongbin instantly shifts away, concern etched on his face, and Hakyeon almost laughs. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He squints. “Are you in pain?”

Hakyeon supposes he must look like that, but he shakes his head and looks away. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s fine.”

“Good!” Hongbin says, and goes to move his hand back. Hakyeon doesn’t let go of his wrist, though, and instead pushes him even further away. He can barely stand to look at him. Christ, this is so embarrassing. “Hakyeon? What’s wrong?”

He’d sort of expected something like this to happen—well, not this exactly, but Hongbin’s curiosity knows no bounds and he is completely naive when it comes to the human body. But expecting it to happen and preparing for it is another thing entirely. He didn’t think he’d ever have to explain arousal and erogenous zones to a mermaid, and now that he’s faced with it, it’s not a discussion he wants to have at _all_. “I can’t handle it when you touch me like that,” he mutters, meeting Hongbin’s gaze and resisting the urge to fling himself into the water.

“What? Why?”

“Because…” He’s well-aware that he’s blushing, now, and he throws caution to the wind. “Because it feels really good.”

Hongbin weighs that over for a second, his brows furrowing. He clearly doesn’t understand. “Good… how do you mean good? Good like the water over your gills?” He shakes his head the moment he says that, seeming to remember Hakyeon has no idea what that feels like. “Good like the sea on a hot day? Good like scratching your back on rocks?”

Hakyeon wants to curl up and die. That would be easier than this. _Anything_ would be easier than this. At least he’s not turned on anymore. “Good in a sexual way,” he says softly, and closes his eyes.

A long, long silence. Hongbin sighs, and Hakyeon feels him shift. The fin at the end of his tail brushes up against his ankles and he resists the urge to shiver. “I see,” Hongbin says, and Hakyeon can’t read into his tone of voice at all. “I… don’t know what that feels like.” He pauses. “We reproduce asexually.”

That makes Hakyeon open his eyes in shock and he blinks, surprised. “Really?”

“Yes.” Hongbin is red, too, and the knowledge that this is not an easy conversation for him either makes Hakyeon relax infinitesimally. “We… mate. Similar to your marriage? We call it undeb. Union, is the translation. It’s based on love, and it lasts for life.”

“Do you have a mate?”

Hongbin shakes his head. “No. So. I don’t know what that feels like. Good in a sexual way.”

“Right,” Hakyeon starts, figuring that’s the end of that and they can move onto safer topics, like why humans have toenails, or whatever Hongbin chooses to bring up next. “I—” He only gets as far as that before Hongbin shifts closer and puts a hand on his stomach again, eyes watching Hakyeon’s face the entire time. He can’t help the way he gasps at the surprise touch, and then grits his teeth in frustration. He hates how susceptible he is to Hongbin’s touches, but he hates even more how Hongbin now knows how to push his buttons. “Hongbin, what are you doing?”

“Show me.”

Hakyeon nearly keels over. “Show you what?” he whispers, aware there’s a loud roaring sound in his ears and his heart is beating in his throat.

“What it feels like.”

It’s an invitation, an implicit one, but Hakyeon just stares. Did he just—? He clearly has no idea what he’s asking; ordinarily Hakyeon would chalk it up to his typical naivety, but the way he’s looking at him—eyes heavy-lidded, mouth parted—says that he knows what he’s doing. It’s infuriating and intoxicating and it’s not the first time Hakyeon has thought about kissing him, that particular fantasy has crept into his head more times than he’d like to admit, but Gods, he was never going to _do_ anything about it. And now here Hongbin is, asking for Hakyeon to turn him on… He has to remind himself to breathe, because all of a sudden it’s very hard to. “Hongbin, no—”

“Please,” Hongbin whispers, and slides his other hand up Hakyeon’s thigh once more. “Hakyeon…”

Their faces are so close together that Hakyeon can see every detail on Hongbin’s face, and abstractly, he wonders how one being can be so _perfect_. He doesn’t have a flaw anywhere. But then all he can think of is Hongbin’s lips, and how soft and kissable they look, and how warm Hongbin’s hand is on his thigh, and how maybe it’s alright to kiss him, just once.

He wants it to be chaste. He has no idea what Hongbin’s done with his own kind, but he knows this is the first time he’s kissed a human, so he wants it to be sweet and gentle and soft, nothing but affection. That hope dissolves the moment their lips touch, though. Hongbin slides a hand into his hair and pulls him closer, and Hakyeon lets his fingers trail over the spot where Hongbin’s tail meets his waist. The moment their mouths open and their tongues touch they both shudder in sync. Hongbin’s fangs are _right there_ , and he should probably be afraid, but he’s anything but; all he wants is more, and sighs softly into Hongbin’s mouth, warmth filling him from the inside out.

“Oh,” Hongbin says when Hakyeon breaks the kiss a moment later. He touches his lips with wide eyes. “Oh. I understand now.”

Hakyeon doesn’t even get a chance to reply to that, to tease him about how easy he is, because Hongbin falls upon him again and they kiss with a renewed ferocity. Hakyeon is well-aware of the voice in the back of his head screaming at him that this is a terrible idea, but he just doesn’t care. He doesn’t _want_ to care. The salty taste of Hongbin’s lips is exhilarating in a way he’s never known before and suspects he never will again; there’s something so foreign about it that’s deliciously addictive, and before he knows it he’s rolled Hongbin over onto his back on the deck to kiss his way down his chest, his tongue circling around a nipple, listening to Hongbin gasp and whine. The noise that Hongbin makes when he runs a hand over his gills, down to his tail, is like nothing he’s ever heard before and Hakyeon wants to do it over and over again. Instead he pulls back to catch his breath, closing his eyes because if he looks at Hongbin, looking like _that_ , he won’t be able to control himself. “Gods,” he mutters, sounding slightly hoarse.

“No, only me,” Hongbin replies, and Hakyeon buries his face in the crook of Hongbin’s neck as they both giggle helplessly.

//

The sea is calling to him once more so, moving as quietly as he can, he steals out of the house and hurries down the cliff face, scrambling in his haste. He’s already been out once today, so he doesn’t head for _Selkie_. Instead he sits on the edge of the pier, his feet dangling over the edge, and turns his head to look at the stars.

Things changed after the kiss, although it took Hakyeon a while to pinpoint how; it felt less like a schism and more like a gentle shift towards something that was right, although he wasn’t sure why. Their routine stayed the same, but Hongbin would spend more time touching Hakyeon—leaning on him, holding his hand, touching his face or his hair like he couldn’t quite get enough. And the feeling was mutual; Hakyeon has spent so much time running his hands up and down Hongbin’s tail he sometimes wakes at night and misses the feel of scales underneath his hands.

All the same, there’s a melancholy that surrounds him, and it’s present tonight in droves. As nice as it is with Hongbin, he has to admit himself that it’s not normal—and not just because Hakyeon is a man, or at least male. Their species are enemies. Just the fact that they are a different species has his brain tripping up sometimes, even though they haven’t done anything past kisses that leave them both panting and aching and wanting more. There’s something beyond the pure physical attraction that has his heart hurting, because it’s terrifying. He always knew he was different, but he figured it was just because he loved the sea more than he could ever love a woman. He didn’t realise he was different like _this_. He didn’t realise he was looking for something that no human could provide.

Or maybe it’s not like that. Maybe he fell for Hongbin not because he is a mermaid but because he’s _Hongbin_. The moment that thought makes its way through his brain, it’s followed by another, and he is so shocked he nearly falls into the water. Oh, Gods. He _is_ falling for Hongbin. Or has fallen. The technicalities don’t matter—the reality of it does. For a moment he just stares at where the sea meets the great expanse of night sky and considers flinging himself in, for what they have cannot be. It can’t. It _can’t_.

But it is.

He closes his eyes and slumps his shoulders and wishes he had answers beyond the longing that weighs him down.

//

“Hakyeon!”

Hakyeon doesn’t turn, as much as every fibre in his being wants him to. Instead he just grunts a greeting and spins the wheel, tacking and ducking as the boom of the mainsail swings above his head. Hongbin had told him to meet him at their usual spot but not stop; it’s rare that he gives Hakyeon orders, so he’d agreed. He had wondered, out loud, where Hongbin was taking them, but Hongbin had just smiled mysteriously and not said a word. When they’re settled in their new direction he turns, and he can’t help the way his heart lifts when he sees Hongbin. He’s sitting on the seat at the stern of the boat, smiling widely—that special smile that makes his eyes disappear so cutely—and with a bag slung over his body. When Hakyeon comes closer he can see that it’s braided intricately with what looks to be seaweed, and he stares at it warily. “Hello,” he says, and he can tell Hongbin senses his trepidation for his greeting is a lot less raucous than usual.

“How are things on the surface?” Hongbin cups his cheek as he sits, but he shrugs free of the touch easily. After his revelation last night it unsettles him and he doesn’t know what to feel. Having Hongbin in front of him is not making things easier.

“Fine,” he replies curtly, and changes the subject. He doesn’t want to talk about home, doesn’t even want to think about it. “How are things in the depths?”

It’s their standard greeting, but Hongbin shifts minutely away from him, and all of a sudden there’s a distance between them that’s so uncomfortable Hakyeon wishes he was elsewhere. “As usual,” he says, and Hakyeon doesn’t miss the hurt in his eyes. “It’s nice weather.”

It certainly is for sailing—there’s a nice breeze, so they’re going along steadily, but the swell isn’t too big. The lap of the waves against the hull is a beautiful soundtrack to what should be an equally as beautiful day, but instead Hakyeon just chews the inside of his cheek and says nothing. He doesn’t know how to broach the topic— _I think I might be falling for you and I know that’s really, really bad, and maybe we should stop doing this_ —so he doesn’t say a word, wishing this was easy.

For the first time, he thinks maybe he should have turned and sailed away that day, leaving Hongbin face down in the water.

He gets up and moves away, shocked at himself and shocked at the abruptness of that thought—it’s a horrible, cruel concept, and he despises himself a little for even thinking it. “Where are we going?” he says, voice too loud, feeling horribly guilty.

“East,” Hongbin says, his tone equally as detached. “Set a course for due east and I will tell you when.”

That’s exactly what Hakyeon does. He knows Hongbin can navigate his way around these waters blindfolded (he’d told Hakyeon that every mermaid has an innate sense of ‘home’ when they’re underwater, and that allows them to go anywhere and always know how to return—not to mention they use the stars to navigate, like Hakyeon’s father taught him, even though of course these days he has compasses and navigational charts) so he isn’t particularly worried about getting lost, but instead his curiosity is piqued, as pensive as he is. They haven’t really gone on excursions before; most of their meetings have been at the rocks, Hongbin’s Rocks, although occasionally they will sail around as Hakyeon fishes. Hongbin seems to like that; he sits on the deck and watches as Hakyeon hauls in the nets, and Hakyeon will always pick the biggest fish and give it to him to eat—it had made him feel mildly disgusted the first time he’d seen Hongbin biting into a fish and eating it raw, but now it’s commonplace and he doesn’t even blink—or, even better, Hongbin will swim behind the boat and herd the fish into the nets. Once Hongbin had even swam into their bay in the middle of the night, and they’d laid in the sand, still warm from the heat of the sun, and told each other secrets until dawn was threatening to break. This, though? This is new, and he’s not sure how he feels about it.

He goes downstairs to get himself a drink and when he comes back upstairs, Hongbin is gone. He feels a pang of regret—they are both adults, and he should really be talking about this instead of letting it fester—before shrugging it off and setting the ship to tack again. He figures Hongbin is swimming alongside and will rejoin him when they get close. Sailing the ship by himself requires a lot of concentration, so he throws himself into that task with renewed fervour, hoping it will distract him from the thoughts tumbling around his head.

It doesn’t, of course.

“We’re close,” Hongbin says from behind him abruptly, and Hakyeon shrieks.

“Gods!” he snarls, clutching a hand to his chest and whirling. Hongbin’s pulling himself aboard, hair plastered to his head and eyes accusing, and Hakyeon almost feels bad for snapping at him. Almost. “You scared the life out of me! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Why?” Hongbin pulls himself back up onto the seat and cocks his head. The movement is eerie, so much so that Hakyeon shivers, unable to stop himself. “Are you worried I’m suddenly going to turn on you and kill you?”

Hakyeon narrows his eyes and folds his arms over his chest. “No! Don’t be stupid. Why would you say something like that?”

For a moment he thinks Hongbin is going to rebut, but instead he just closes his eyes briefly. “Nevermind,” he mutters, and sighs. “You may want to lower the sails.”

Hakyeon does just that, wishing he was back at home. Today was a mistake, that much is clear; he and Hongbin have never been at each other’s throats like this before, and he knows it’s his fault—Hongbin is just playing off the negative attitude Hakyeon’s giving him. But the sadness in him has morphed into irritation, and by the time he makes his way up to the bow to drop anchor, he’s muttering all sorts of unkind things under his breath.

“Where are we?” he asks when he comes back to the stern a few minutes later, leaning on the wheel and trying to avoid looking at Hongbin.

The patch of sea they’re in is entirely nondescript, aside from a few rocks not far away—they’re not unlike Hongbin’s Rocks, actually, although when Hakyeon focuses on them he can see coral, exposed to the air. “We’re at a reef,” Hongbin replies, and Hakyeon’s eyes widen. “You can only hold your breath for two minutes at a time, correct?”

“Yes, but it’s not comfortable.”

Hongbin brightens and reaches for the bag slung around his body. “I got one of my sisters to make you this,” he blurts, and pulls out what looks to be a stick. “I am not very good at… manipulating things.”

Hakyeon leans forward and takes it from his outstretched hand, turning it over in his hands. Immediately it becomes clear that this is not just a stick; it’s a hollowed out reed, or something to that effect, and wrapped around the bottom is a piece of coral, curving out to the side. “I can use this to breathe?” He looks back up at Hongbin, who nods. “Does this… go in my mouth?”

The idea of sucking on a mystery bit of coral does not particularly appeal, but he obeys as Hongbin beckons him closer, taking the device from him and demonstrating how to use it. When he wraps his lips around the hole in the coral, the reed sticks straight up in the air behind him—and when he lowers his head so it’s parallel to the floor, Hakyeon understands. He will be able to swim along the surface of the water while looking down, and still be able to breathe. “Wow,” he mutters, and takes the device from Hongbin. “Thank you. And tell your sister thank you.”

“I would if she knew about you.” That seems to slip out without Hongbin meaning it to; his eyes go wide, and for a moment they just stare at each other, the weight of the knowledge so heavy between them. They are a paradox, something that cannot be but that just is, and neither of them have bucked up the courage to let anyone else into their secret.

They don’t say anything further. Hakyeon strips down to just his shorts and dives into the water, the reed clutched in his hand, and lets Hongbin lead him towards the rocks. He jams the coral into his mouth, wincing at the taste—it’s incredibly salty and tastes vaguely like dirt—and lowers his head into the water, not expecting it to work. It does, though, to his surprise and delight; when he opens his eyes, he can see that Hongbin is floating in front of him, watching him with a smile on his face. His gills are opening and closing, his tail swishing in the gentle current, and Hakyeon is struck all over again by his beauty. That is eclipsed by what Hakyeon sees when they round the corner of one of the rocks, though, and he has to stick his head above water to rub his eyes.

The reef that he’d seen sticking out of the water was just the top section—it’s low tide, so it’s logical that part of it is exposed to the air when the tide goes out. What is underneath the water, though, is like nothing Hakyeon has ever seen before, and considering he has a mermaid swimming right next to him, that’s saying something. It’s a complete explosion of colour and shapes, and although he can’t see that well underwater he can make out enough to know that this is exquisitely beautiful. He has never seen a reef like this up close before. He usually avoids them, because he doesn’t want to run aground. This is like a new world, and he treads water, watching in awe as Hongbin swims forward and into the reef like it’s home. He fits right in there, weaving in and out of rocks, dodging anemone and chasing fish, and even from here Hakyeon can see the wicked grin on his face.

It’s then that Hakyeon realises what this is, what Hongbin is giving him; this is a look into his world. Most of their meetings have been spent in the context of Hakyeon’s world—floating on the surface of the water, or on the deck of _Selkie_. Being underwater, though, that’s all Hongbin’s domain, and it’s something that was off-limits to him. Until now.

The weight of the gift staggers him, and he takes the reed away from his mouth and surfaces for a minute, needing to breathe. Even after how horrible he has been to Hongbin, he’s still showing him this, still letting him in. He isn’t worthy, that much is clear, and the guilt hits him with a punch. _Gods_. What is he doing?

“Hakyeon? Are you alright?” Hongbin surfaces next to him, pulling him close, eyes scanning Hakyeon’s face for signs of trouble.

Hakyeon doesn’t say anything for a second, trying to get his thoughts in order. He wants to explain why he’s been so horrible, how sorry he is for being an ass, but instead all that comes out of his mouth is—“I love you,” and then he can’t breathe at all.

“Oh.” Hongbin’s mouth opens and closes and he looks so much like a fish that Hakyeon starts giggling, rather deliriously. “Oh. Hakyeon, I…”

“It’s fine,” Hakyeon says, still giggling. “I didn’t mean that. I mean, I did mean that. But I didn’t mean to say it now. That’s why I’ve been so weird. Because I love you, and I don’t really know how to deal with it. Because you’re a mermaid, and I’m not.”

“Shut up,” Hongbin whispers, but his tone isn’t cruel, and his hands tighten on Hakyeon’s waist. “I love you too, fool.”

Hakyeon doesn’t even get a chance to say _oh_ —it was his turn, after all. But then Hongbin pulls him into a kiss and he can’t think of anything but that. _He loves me, he loves me_ , he thinks, going limp and letting Hongbin hold them up. _He loves me he loves me he loves me—_

“I wanted to give you this,” Hongbin murmurs a few moments later, resting their foreheads together as they breathe. Well, he’s breathing just fine, since his gills are still underwater. Hakyeon’s gasping for air and it has nothing to do with where he is. “I wanted you to be a part of my world, even for a little bit. And… I wanted to give you this, as well.”

He pulls back and reaches for his bag again, and this time he presses something else into Hakyeon’s hands, something heavy and cold. When he lifts it out of the water he nearly gasps in shock, and only Hongbin catching his wrist stops him dropping the thing. It’s a knife, although it’s nothing like the one he keeps on his belt to gut fish; this is a dagger made of a material he has never seen before. It’s almost like glass, with a rainbow sheen to it, the same sheen that reflects off Hongbin’s scales in the sun. The handle is coral and carved, and it is the single most beautiful object Hakyeon has ever touched. “Hongbin,” he starts, aware he’s whispering and Hongbin can probably barely hear him. “I can’t accept this…”

“This is _bidogyn_ , and it’s the gift that we give to our… mates. It is a proposition.” When Hakyeon meets Hongbin’s eyes he can see the raw emotion there, the complete depth of his love, and it staggers him. “A question. It’s asking if they will choose us, if we will be united.” He smiles, and Hakyeon’s heart skips a beat. “There’s a whole speech, but it sounds better in our language.”

“Are you asking me the question?” Hakyeon manages to force out through stiff lips.

Hongbin meets his gaze evenly, although Hakyeon can tell he’s horribly nervous. “Yes.”

“I accept,” Hakyeon whispers, not caring that it’s probably the wrong thing to do. It’s never felt so right, and he’s never wanted anything so much, and the way Hongbin’s face changes when he says those words—well, he knows he is making the right choice. Hongbin kisses him again and they both can’t stop smiling at each other, Hakyeon still with the dagger clutched in his hand. “Say your lines,” he teases, “even though it sounds better in your language.”

“You are blood of my blood,” Hongbin says quietly, and Hakyeon swears his heart stops beating entirely. “And bone of my bone. I give you my body that we two might be one. I give you my spirit, til our life shall be done.” He pauses and squints. “Are you crying?”

“No.” Hakyeon pushes at him weakly and ducks his head, hiding the tears. “It’s water. Got in my eye, you know.”

He knows he’s not fooling anyone.

//

They swim until Hakyeon starts complaining that his fingers are going to fall off, they’re so swollen with water—something that never happens to Hongbin, much to his amusement—and then they lie on the deck of _Selkie_ to dry off, talking until the sun goes down. Hakyeon explains his sudden crisis of faith and apologises, and Hongbin shrugs it off like it’s no big deal—but Hakyeon can see the relief in his eyes, and he silently vows never to act like that again.

“I should be getting back,” he sighs sometime later when the moon is out, painting them in milky, opaque light.

He doesn’t move, though. Hongbin is in his arms, lying on his chest and tracing delicate patterns on his skin, and it feels so nice that he can’t bear to move and ruin it. “Don’t,” Hongbin says, and props himself up on an elbow to look down at Hakyeon. “Don’t leave me. Stay here with me tonight.”

There’s many reasons why he shouldn’t. He’s expected back at home, for one; he’s never stayed out all night with no warning before, and his parents will worry. He doesn’t have that much food, for another. Now that the sun’s down it’s getting cold. He really should be going home, but when he looks at Hongbin—his expression so soft and loving—he just can’t bring himself to leave. “Alright, I’ll stay. Just let me up. I have to get a drink of water. Want some?”

Hongbin thinks it’s very amusing that humans need to drink fresh water to live, and he constantly teases Hakyeon about it, so he shakes his head and leans back as Hakyeon staggers to his feet. Once downstairs in the belly of the ship he carefully lights the little lantern he keeps there for that exact purpose, hanging it up and reaching for his canteen. The knife that Hongbin gave him is resting on his charts, from where he’d put it once they’d come back on board, and he stares at it as he drinks, his mind racing with thoughts.

“Hey,” he calls as he comes back upstairs again. “I have something for you.”

Hongbin’s skin is glistening—he must have poured water on himself—and the droplets catch and reflect the moonlight in a way that makes him look even more ethereal than usual. “A present?”

Hakyeon bites his cheek to stop from laughing as he settles himself back down again, folding his legs neatly under him. Hongbin looks so _eager_. “Yes, a present. But, Hongbin…” He cups Hongbin’s cheek and leans into him automatically. “This can’t compare to what you gave me. But I still would like you to have it.” He uncurls his fist and presses what he was carrying into Hongbin’s hand, watching as he holds it up to the moonlight and turns it over. Hakyeon can see the moment he catches sight of the engraving on the back—his eyes widen and he peers at it incredulously.

“What is it?”

“It’s a compass.” Hakyeon takes it from him and turns it over so it’s face up. “See how the needle points towards east? That’s because we’re pointed towards east, too,” he explains, holding his arm out towards the bow for illustrative purposes. “If you turn north, like this, the needle swings.”

Hongbin nods, eyes wide. “Is this how two-leggeds cross the sea?”

“Yes, and with charts. But I’ve showed you those before.”

Gently, Hongbin takes the compass back and flips it over, his finger tracing over the cuttings on the back of it. “And this? Why is there a môr-forwyn on here? I thought your kind hated us.”

“This was my grandfather’s,” Hakyeon says softly, and meets Hongbin’s eyes when he looks up in shock. “And it belonged to his father before him. Back in those days… your kind weren’t our enemies. You were good luck, in fact. You would speak to us to warn us about coming storms. You saved many lives.”

“What changed?” Hongbin asks glumly, and Hakyeon can’t bear to hear the sadness in his voice. Before he can say anything, though, he looks up and shakes the compass a little. “Thank you, Hakyeon. It’s beautiful. I will treasure it.”

Hakyeon smiles and looks down at the woodgrain of the deck. “It’s no knife, that’s for sure. But at least this way you can always find your way back to me.”

He dodges the way Hongbin swipes at him, groaning, and rolls onto his back to laugh long and loud. Here, like this, on the water with Hongbin by his side and the huge expanse of open sky above him, he doesn’t think he needs much else.

//

“Where have you been?”

He hadn’t expected his mother to be up this early, but when a match flares and a lantern lights he winces. He should have known she’d stay up waiting for him, even though dawn has only just broken, the pale pink of the early morning sky filtering weakly in through the curtains. “I was on the water.” He tries to make his way to his bedroom but she steps in his path, her face hard, and he sighs. “I’m sorry if you were worried.”

“Anything could have happened to you! You could have drowned, or, or one of those horrible creatures could have got you. Your father and I were worried sick!” A lie, Hakyeon thinks, eyeing her. His father hasn’t cared for years. “Why didn’t you come home? Why didn’t you _tell_ me?”

He wants to tell her that those creatures aren’t that horrible at all, but he presses his lips together in a flat line and tries to calm himself instead. He can’t and won’t out Hongbin. What they have rises above all this pettiness, and he has to remind himself of that. “I didn’t tell you because I’m an adult and I can do what I like,” he mutters, and shoulders past her. “I need to move out.”

He says this last part under his breath but she hears him—of _course_ she does—and she snorts, derision dripping from her so strongly Hakyeon can feel it. “Why don’t you get married first? Then you can move out. But you won’t, will you? You’re married to the ocean.”

Hakyeon slams his bedroom door behind him, dropping his bag on the floor and clenching his fists.

“Just like your father,” his mother whispers, alone with the lantern clutched in her hand.

//

Things at home are decidedly frosty after that, and Hakyeon spends as little time there as possible. His sisters look at him suspiciously whenever they visit with their husbands and he happens to catch them—he hates playing the role of dutiful brother-in-law to men who work in the city and don’t understand the ocean at all, but he tries—and he can’t be bothered to explain it to them. There was a time where he would have, years ago, but as time has gone by they’ve all grown apart. They have their husbands, his mother has his father, and he has Hongbin. He’s content with that arrangement.

He’s readying _Selkie_ to go out one chilly morning when he hears shoes clacking on the stone of the pier and turns, not knowing what to expect but somehow knowing who it will be; his suspicions are confirmed the moment he lays eyes on her. “Mother? What are you doing here?”

She stands there for a moment, unsure and fidgeting, and Hakyeon can see she has a wicker basket in her hands. “May I come aboard?”

For a moment he just stares. He can count on one hand the amount of times he’s seen his mother onboard _Selkie_ , and each time it was clear she had not enjoyed it—she’d spent the whole time sitting at the back of the ship, clutching so tight to the wood her knuckles turned white, whimpering whenever they tacked and the ship leaned right over. But then he shakes himself and nods, scrambling to stern to hold out a hand and help her on board. “Is everything alright?”

She doesn’t reply, just puts the basket down and starts poking around the ship. It feels strange to have her here. This is so much his space—well, his and Hongbin’s, now—that it almost feels like an intrusion, which is ridiculous. She is his _mother_. She raised him. And yet, watching her make her way around _Selkie_ with an unreadable expression on her face, she feels like a perfect stranger.

“You’ve kept her in beautiful condition,” she says a few minutes later, coming back to stern and picking up the basket. “I can tell you love being out here.”

Hakyeon shrugs. “She’s a special ship. Mother, are you sure everything is alright?”

She sighs, and runs a hand over her hair, patting her bun subconsciously. “I wanted to apologise for losing my temper at you the other night. I just… worry. After what happened to your father…”

“Yeah,” Hakyeon says, cutting her off. It’s best for everyone if they don’t talk about what happened to his father—the light in his eyes died the moment the doctor told him he would never sail again, and it never came back on again. “Is this for me?”

“Oh, yes!” she shakes herself and lifts the lid on the basket. “An apology, of sorts. I baked you some scones. I thought you might like them, if you’re going to be out here all day and night.” She sees Hakyeon’s eyes light up and smiles softly. “There’s jam and cream in there, yes.”

Hakyeon’s first thought is _I can’t wait to share these with Hongbin_ , but of course he doesn’t say that, and he doesn’t let it show on his face, either. He takes the basket from her, puts it down between them, and pulls her in for a hug. “Thank you, mother. I appreciate it.”

“You’re not eating enough, out here all day!” she chides gently, pulling back and patting his cheek. “I have to feed you somehow, and if you won’t come home for dinner, I suppose I must start bringing dinner to you.”

He watches her make her way back to the pier with his stomach twisted in snarly knots that refuse to untie themselves.

//

Normally he and Hongbin meet at Hongbin’s Rocks—they don’t even discuss it now, since it’s such a given. Because Hongbin is so impatient he’ll often meet Hakyeon halfway there and clamber aboard quietly, scaring Hakyeon when he turns around. He thinks that’s really funny. From there they’ll either stay there, talking for hours and hours, or they’ll go sailing as Hakyeon fishes—but the one thing that hasn’t changed is where they meet.

Which is why, when Hakyeon approaches the rocks and drops the mainsail, he finds it strange that Hongbin isn’t here waiting for him. Most of the time he is sitting on the rocks he was sitting on when Hakyeon first saw him, a big grin on his face as he watches the ship get closer and closer. There’s no sign of him today, and Hakyeon tries not to worry as he drops anchor and balances on the bowsprit, peering about in case Hongbin’s swimming towards him. He can’t see a thing, and nothing at all happens when he calls Hongbin’s name, quiet at first but then louder.

“I have scones again,” he calls. Nothing. Probably for the best, since it’s a lie; his mother said she’d give him scones again tomorrow (Hongbin had practically inhaled the first ones Hakyeon had given him last week, saying they were the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, and Hakyeon had wished he could pass the compliments along), but it was worth a try.

He goes below deck and stares at his charts, chewing his lip. They are definitely meant to meet—last night, while saying goodbye, Hakyeon had leaned over into the water and given Hongbin a kiss so deep and fierce he was panting by the time they broke apart, and then Hongbin had specifically said “I’ll see you tomorrow,” so… Where is he? He’s never been late before, not once. It’s unlike him, and although Hakyeon _tries_ not to worry, he can’t help it. What if something’s happened?

“No,” he says to himself, and turns away and heads back into the sunlight once more. “Keep myself busy, that’s all I need.”

Even though weighing anchor and raising the sails hurts, he knows he needs to do something. If he’s just sitting here for ages on end he’ll drive himself crazy. He doesn’t go far from the rocks—he tries to keep them off to his left, within viewing distance—but tries to put all thoughts of Hongbin out of his mind and fishes instead, the familiar task soothing him somewhat.

He can’t ignore the knot of panic in his stomach, though, that refuses to shift no matter what he does.

//

He sails back into the bay right as the sun is setting, wrapping his hands around the spokes on the steering wheel so he doesn’t wring them into knots.

Hongbin hadn’t turned up. He wasn’t late, he just never showed up at all; Hakyeon hadn’t moved from the area around the rocks all day, but there was just… nothing. The dread is turning him inside out at this point, made worse by the fact that he has no way to contact Hongbin. He can’t exactly write him a letter, after all; their continued existence as a couple only exists because they are both free to meet at the same place every day, and if something compromises that… Well. Hakyeon is the product of that, so worried he feels like he’s going to be sick.

By the time he makes his way back up the cliff path towards home, it’s completely dark, and only his instinctual knowledge of the path keeps him from being afraid. If he’s honest, he doesn’t even see where he’s going. He’s too busy turning Hongbin over in his mind, hoping to all the Gods that something heinous hasn’t happened but preparing for it anyway. What can he _do?_ If Hongbin’s really been found out for consorting with a human, it’s completely out of Hakyeon’s hands. It’s not like he can dive down there with a knife and threaten to stab someone until they tell him where Hongbin is.

“Hakyeon!” his mother exclaims the moment he walks inside, getting up and rushing over to him. “You will never believe what’s—”

“Where’s father?” Hakyeon just stares at his father’s armchair. The only time it’s empty is when he’s in bed—the rest of the time he sits there, watching every single coming and going, not saying a word but filling the house with his presence. Today is apparently the day for change.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you! He’s down at the village. A few sailors caught a mermaid this morning, and they have it tied up—”

Hakyeon doesn’t hear anything after that. His heart slows and his blood runs cold because he knows, he _knows_. There’s only one mermaid that would be stupid enough to come this close to civilisation, one mermaid naive and trusting enough to get caught. There’s a horrible roaring noise in his head and he thinks he might faint but then he’s gone, turning and running as fast as his legs can take him, gasping for air because he thinks he may actually be dying.

He knows what they do with mermaids they catch, of course—they all do. It comes part and parcel with the myths. Catch and kill. A public execution. A lesson, although to whom Hakyeon isn’t sure, since it’s not like the other mermaids can attend to watch. He realises he’s laughing hysterically as he sprints down towards the village, although those laughs turn into hiccuping sobs as he goes. He won’t let them kill Hongbin. He’d rather kill himself.

He spots his father right away in the crowd, tall and imposing even though he’s leaning heavily on his cane. “Father,” he gasps, putting a hand to his chest and closing his eyes. He doesn’t even know if he’s ready for what he’s about to see. “What is it?”

“Fuckin’ mermaid,” his father says, and spits on the ground. “Caught him near the pier early this morning. Stupid bloody creature.”

When he opens his eyes, he nearly keels over. He’d had hope that maybe it was some other mermaid, even if he knew in his heart of hearts it wouldn’t be, but the sight in front of him sinks in and the tiny flame of hope splutters and goes out all at once. Hongbin is lying there, bound and gagged and looking worse than Hakyeon has ever seen him—he’s pale, paler than normal, so pale his veins stand out underneath his skin, the beating of his black blood eerily visible. His eyes are bloodshot and they widen in shocked recognition when they fall on Hakyeon in the crowd. He starts wriggling furiously, but one of the sailors kicks him savagely in the thickest part of his tail—much to the crowd’s delight—and he stops moving entirely. That horrible roaring noise in Hakyeon’s head is back and he takes a step forward dreamily, his hand reaching for the knife on his belt.

Hongbin, though, catches his eyes and shakes his head minutely. _Don’t_.

“Hongbin,” Hakyeon whispers, but Hongbin shakes his head more vigorously. _Don’t. Save yourself. I know what’s coming._ “No.”

“What are they doing with him?” he asks his father, melting back into the crowd and staring at the ground so he doesn’t have to stare at Hongbin any longer.

His father grunts. “Executing him in the morning. This is just for show.”

All these people know about mermaids are the fact that their friends and family have disappeared, sailing off one day into the sunset never to return, and mermaids are almost certainly responsible—but here, with his eyes blurring with tears and the heat of rage burning through him, Hakyeon hates them all. It doesn’t matter who started hunting who first. It matters that innocents are being killed, on both sides, and the fact that it’s Hongbin up there—he can’t stand it. He can’t _stand_ it. The urge to scream until he throws up is so strong he nearly does, but all that gets past his lips is a quiet squeak that’s drowned out by the noise of the crowd. He will be glad if he never sees any of these people again, these horrible, bloodthirsty people—they are baying for _Hongbin’s_ blood, Hongbin who has so much love in his heart Hakyeon can barely hold it all, Hongbin who wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“I’m going home,” he mutters faintly, turning and making his way out of the crowd.

He only makes it halfway back to the house before he vomits, on his knees in the grass, retching and crying and wishing he was up there instead of Hongbin, wishing he could do something more.

//

He lies awake as the rest of the house puts itself to bed, staring at the ceiling and fingering a thread of his blanket, his mind turning over and over with thoughts. He knows he needs to get Hongbin out, and he needs to get him out tonight. It’s the how that he’s tripping up on—not to mention the consequences. Even if he isn’t caught, he doesn’t want to return here. These people are not his people any longer. They are heartless and cruel and he wants nothing to do with them.

He waits until he hears his father get up and go to bed and then waits for an hour more. Lying still like that is the hardest thing he’s ever done, especially as he knows Hongbin is close and suffering, but he cannot get caught so he makes himself stay still, planning out everything as best he can. If he is going to leave for good, he needs to leave with _Selkie_ , which is easier said than done. He also needs to get supplies, and doing that without waking his mother up is going to be perhaps the most difficult part of all.

Eventually, when the moon rises and he can’t stand it any longer, he gets out of bed and dresses in silence. It’s autumn now, and dreadfully cold outside, so when he grabs things from his wardrobe he also takes the blanket that lays folded on the end of his bed, shoving it all in his satchel and chewing his lip. There’s no _time_. If he’d known, if he’d had some warning, he’d be more prepared. But then, if they’d had a warning, they wouldn’t be here, would they?

In the kitchen, he doesn’t linger; the need to get to Hongbin is making his world pulsate, everything going slightly blurry, so all he reaches for is some biscuits. If he has to survive on fish for the next few weeks until they make it to another port, that’s fine. All that matters is they survive in the first place. He fills his canteen with water and stuffs that in his bag as well, turning to survey the little house. Perhaps he should feel sad—he’s lived here for all twenty-four years of his life, and there’s something about the little cottage on the cliff that he feels attached to, as attached as he can be to something anchored so firmly on land. Perhaps that’s the problem, he realises, as he closes the front door gently behind him and pats the doorframe gently. Perhaps the reason he feels so detached about leaving everything he’s ever known is because he has always felt more attached to the sea and the freedom it offered him.

He scrambles down the cliff path, running as fast as he dares, hating himself for not going straight to Hongbin. There’s a few sailors sitting on the pier, drinking and laughing, and he pays them no mind as he hurries past them, even though they call to him— “where are you going at this time of night, boy?” one says, to everyone’s amusement. “That’s the Cha boy. That family has always been a little strange,” says another, and Hakyeon’s ears turn red—and laugh amongst themselves. His world is reduced to what he can see in front of him and the thought of Hongbin, Hongbin, Hongbin, beating in time with his pulse.

Even being on the sea isn’t comforting, not when he knows that what he is about to do is quite possibly the most difficult thing he has ever done. He doesn’t sail very far—just to the mouth of the bay, where he drops anchor and stashes his bag below deck. On his belt he secures the knife that Hongbin has given him, feeling the smoothness of the blade between his fingers and praying to the Gods that he won’t have to use it. It’s horrendously cold, and when he stands on the steps and looks into the water, dark and enticing, he can’t help but shudder. This far into autumn it’s going to be _freezing_ , but what must be done must be done, so he takes a deep breath and dives neatly in.

The cold strangles him as he strikes out towards the shore, heading not for the pier but the beach, his teeth chattering horribly. Hongbin doesn’t feel the cold—not in the water, anyway. Hakyeon had asked one day how his kind can bear to swim in winter, but to them it’s not an issue; it’s when they come into the cold air that they start to suffer. Yet another reason Hakyeon has to hurry. The image of Hongbin, pale and shivering and with bloodshot eyes, refuses to move from his head.

The urge to lie on the sand and try to sap warmth from it is overwhelming, but instead he staggers upright and crosses the beach as fast as he can, heading for the dunes and the paths to the village beyond. He is dripping everywhere and, with his knife, is incredibly conspicuous, but what can he do? They need to go, and they need to go _now_ , and he has no fucking choice. Neither of them do.

He knows where they’ll be keeping Hongbin—it’s a small hut attached to the gallows, right in the middle of town. There have only been a handful of public executions as long as Hakyeon has been alive, and all but one of them were mermaids. His father attended every single one, but Hakyeon never had the stomach for it. He believed, of course, that mermaids were the bringers of death, but that doesn’t mean he bayed for their blood like the rest of the town seemed to. Sentencing a creature to murder with no evidence, proof, or body, seemed completely unjustifiable to him—but if he ever brought that up to anyone they would look at him like he’d gone mad. Perhaps he has; he genuinely can’t tell anymore.

There’s no one around, much to his surprise. He pauses in the shadows of the bakery across the road and watches and waits, but there’s no sign of movement anywhere. But then, it makes sense—why would they bother posting a guard for a creature everyone wants dead anyway? It’s not like the mermaids can launch a rescue mission, and if someone decides to take justice into their own hands, it’s no particular loss. The knowledge that Hongbin is so near is making his head throb, and he knows he can’t wait any longer. He steals across the street and slips into cover once more, creeping along the side of the hut until he finds a window. Peering inside tells him nothing so with his beautiful knife he jimmies open the lock, slides the window open, leaps over the sill and—

“Hongbin!”

Necessity tempers his yell to a whisper at the last moment, but it’s a horrified one. Hongbin is lying there on the dingy bed, still bound and gagged, and looking horrible. In just the few hours that have lapsed since Hakyeon last saw him he’s gotten worse—far, far worse. He looks like he hasn’t eaten for _weeks_. His skin is practically translucent, and when he turns his head, Hakyeon can see the pain in his eyes. “Oh, god, Hongbin,” he whispers, crossing the floor in two strides to untie the rope from his mouth. “I am so, so sorry.”

“Hakyeon,” Hongbin says happily the moment he can speak, smiling. Or, trying to. It comes out rather weak, and when he opens his mouth, Hakyeon can see one of his fangs has broken off. _Gods_. “What are you doing here? They’ll catch you…”

“Shut up.” Hakyeon strokes Hongbin’s head and leans down to kiss him gently. “I’m not leaving you. We’re getting out of here permanently. Come on, we have to get you to the water.”

Hongbin starts shaking his head as Hakyeon cuts through the ropes around his wrists and tail, linking them together. Much to Hakyeon’s horror, the delicate bottom of his fin is torn, like someone’s stepped on it. “But your family… your life is here.”

“My life is with you,” Hakyeon replies firmly, and slides an arm around Hongbin’s waist, helping him to sit up. “We need to go now.”

But Hongbin doesn’t move, and Hakyeon quickly realises it’s because he _can’t_. “No, Hakyeon, stop. I’m too fragile. I can’t move. I need water.”

Well, there’s the explanation for why Hongbin looks so awful—he’s so dehydrated that he’s wasting away before Hakyeon’s very eyes, and considering it’s his biology there’s very little he can do about it. A small part of him finds it fascinating, but most of him just finds it horrifying, and he disentangles himself to stand up again. “Okay, so I’ll get you water. Does it need to be seawater? Will fresh water do?”

“Any water,” Hongbin pleads through cracked lips, his eyes lighting up at just the word. “Hakyeon, hurry, please—”

“I’m going.”

It’s not just that he looks awful, Hakyeon thinks as he steals out through the window again, his heart racing in his chest. Hongbin’s skin was papery to the touch, dry and flaky like with one wrong touch he might disintegrate entirely, and only the knowledge that they still need to escape keeps him from losing his temper completely. Thank the Gods he doesn’t see anyone as he hurries to the well. If anyone gets in his way now he doesn’t know that he could trust himself not to kill them in blind rage.

The entire time he’s hurrying back to the hut with a bucket clutched in his hands he feels as if he has a target on his back. There’s only so much time they can spend here before someone comes along, and the more they linger, the less chance they have at getting out of this alive. But Hongbin’s expression when he opens the door from the inside—having dragged himself across the floor to do so—and sees Hakyeon carrying the water is like nothing Hakyeon’s ever seen before, and the noise that he makes when Hakyeon upends it on him is like music to his ears. “More,” he mutters, but already Hakyeon can see his veins becoming less visible, his cheeks filling out once more, his scales beginning to shine.

He makes the trip twice more, each time more risky than the last but worth it to see Hongbin come back to himself. By the time they’re ready to go he nearly looks perfect once more—although his eyes are still bloodshot, and Hakyeon can see the strain holding himself up on land is taking on him. “You can’t make it to the beach, can you?” he asks, and Hongbin shakes his head. “I’ll carry you.”

“Hakyeon, I’m heavy,” Hongbin says, aghast.

Hakyeon smirks as he leans down, pulling Hongbin’s arm over his shoulders. “Yes, and I’m strong. Let’s go.”

Hongbin goes completely limp as Hakyeon slings him over his shoulders in a fireman's carry, thanking the Gods that all the years on the sea have given him a quiet physical strength that allows him to do this. Hongbin is not just heavy, but unwieldy—because most of his weight is in his tail, his center of balance is completely off, and it takes Hakyeon a few minutes to get used to it. In the cover of darkness they steal down towards the beach, Hongbin looking around behind him for anyone following them. At one point he starts giggling, which shocks Hakyeon so much he nearly drops him. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Hongbin whispers around laughs that he is obviously trying to stifle. “It’s just that I never thought I would be carried by a two-legged through a two-legged village as we tried to escape from the two-leggeds.” His body shudders with the effort of holding back another wave of laughter. “It’s like something out of a story.”

Hakyeon can see where he’s coming from, but he doesn’t have the luxury of finding it funny, not when it’s his village they’re escaping from, the people he’s known all his life the monsters they’re avoiding. He doesn’t know how they don’t get caught, but by some miracle they make it to the dunes unseen, and he takes a moment to stand there and catch his breath. It’s a few hours until dawn, and he wants to be well away from here by the time the sun comes up.

Their luck runs out as they’re halfway across the beach. The water is within sight, which makes it all the more torturous; four more strides and they would have made it sight unseen. But a yell goes out, and Hakyeon turns, and his heart sinks. It’s the sailors from the pier. They must have staggered onto the beach at some point during the evening, for now they’re pointing at Hakyeon, frozen with Hongbin on his shoulders. “He’s stealing the mermaid!” one of them cries, which Hakyeon wishes he could find funny. “What the—?”

“Hakyeon,” Hongbin blurts as the men start across the sand towards them. “Hakyeon, _run!”_

That’s exactly what Hakyeon does, sprinting towards the water and flinging himself into it. Hongbin slips from his shoulders and into the sea and vanishes, and Hakyeon hurries after him, wading as fast as he can through the water until he strikes out and starts swimming. But those men—ah, they are so much bigger than him, and right when he thinks he’s made it he feels a hand close around his ankle and he’s dragged backwards.

Things get blurry after that, and not least because the first thing one of the men does when they grab him is punch him in the face, his neck ricocheting around. He reaches for the knife on his belt with fumbling hands, but he doesn’t even have time to reach it before—before Hongbin rises out of the sea right next to him, shrieking like a banshee and giving the man such a fright he drops Hakyeon. Before he can even move Hongbin grabs him by the wrist and swims away, and all Hakyeon can do is hold his breath and close his eyes and hope he doesn’t drown. The last thing he sees of the only home he’s ever known is three livid men, standing on the beach and arguing amongst themselves, the water coming up to their thighs.

“Hakyeon!” Hongbin cries once they’re far enough out that they won’t be pursued. He’s floating on his back and Hongbin is looming above him, his face dripping with water. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” Hakyeon blinks once, twice, three times, and shakes his head. “My head’s… fuzzy. But I’m okay. Are you okay?”

Hongbin nods. “Now that I’m in the water, I’m fine.” He pauses and looks around, eyes narrowing. “But, um, we should really be leaving. They will come for you soon. Is your boat at the pier?”

“Mouth of the bay,” Hakyeon mutters, rolling over onto his chest and striking out towards just that.

They swim in silence. He now knows, first hand, how fast Hongbin can swim, but he doesn’t hurry Hakyeon. Instead it’s quite a leisurely journey towards _Selkie_ , although by the time Hakyeon reaches the steps he finds he doesn’t have the strength to pull himself up. Instead Hongbin gets on first and pulls him onboard, and they fall backwards onto the deck, Hakyeon ending up on Hongbin’s chest. They lie there and breathe together, Hakyeon shivering uncontrollably but indescribably happy. He did it. They did it.

“I love you,” he forces out from between chattering teeth.

Hongbin draws him closer and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I love you more, you silly human.”

Now that the adrenaline has faded, he just feels very, very old as he gets up and wraps the blanket around his shoulders, sitting on the stern and trying to warm up. Even though Hongbin is right there in front of him, leaning against him, he can’t quite believe they did it, that they got away. His chest swells with the possibilities for the future, but there’s a sadness there, too; he knows he can’t return here, and nor does he want to. All he’s ever wanted has been on the sea, and now that’s all he has left.

“Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs a while later, once he’s stopped shivering.

Hongbin turns to him with bright eyes and reaches up to cup his cheek. Hakyeon knows that he understands—it’s there on his face, he can feel it too. “Let’s,” he agrees, and when Hakyeon kisses his palm he knows that he has made the right choice.

_**Epilogue** _

It’s a different country, a different port, but the routine is much the same. Hakyeon will rise before dawn and make his way to the beach, half-asleep and cold. He’ll drag the little rowboat down to the sea and get in, and then he’ll row out to where _Selkie_ is moored—for in this country that’s the way things are done. He’ll tie the rowboat to the back of _Selkie_ and set about preparing her for the day ahead before sailing out of the mouth of the bay right as the sun rises, enjoying the feel of the foreign wind on his face, the sound of the sea all around him. He’ll fish for a few hours and then he’ll head to the spot— _their_ spot.

“Hongbin,” he calls as he stands on the bowsprit, a huge fish in his hand. It’s the biggest one he’s caught all day, and he’d put it aside specifically for this. “I have something for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Hongbin says, rising up out of the water in front of the bow and giving Hakyeon such a shock he nearly falls. “And what is it, my love?”

Hakyeon tosses the fish to him with a smile, laughing as Hongbin’s eyes light up and he takes a huge bite. They’ve only been here for a month or so, but it’s nice. Living on the water was fantastic too—not to mention it was lovely having Hongbin within reach 24/7—but he had needed to feel land beneath his feet for a while, and so they’d settled, although they’re both aware it’s not permanent. Hakyeon looks and sounds nothing like these people, and although he’s slowly picking up the language, he’s most definitely an outsider. He doesn’t really mind. Hongbin is all he needs.

(Hongbin himself hasn’t had trouble finding friends wherever they go—from what Hakyeon understands, mermaids are all pretty close no matter where they come from, something that Hakyeon can’t relate to.)

“I have something for you too,” Hongbin says around a mouthful of fish. “Come here.”

Obligingly, Hakyeon does, walking to the side of the ship and leaning over. Hongbin kisses him softly on the cheek—he knows how much Hakyeon hates kissing his fish-breath, sometimes does it anyway to be annoying—before rolling onto his back and, with one flap of his fin, splashes Hakyeon with water, soaking him entirely. “Bastard!” Hakyeon yells, and rips off his shirt. “You’ll pay for that!”

The water here is so warm and inviting that he doesn’t really mind diving in to grab Hongbin by the tail, running his fingers up and down his scales in the way that he knows tickles him like mad. He doesn’t mind when Hongbin pushes him underwater, either. He most certainly doesn’t mind when Hongbin pulls him close into an embrace and nuzzles his neck, his fangs trailing across the thin skin there, making him shiver.

“I love you,” they say in sync, and laugh until their stomachs hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally inspired by a Rammstein song called ['Seemann'](http://herzeleid.com/en/lyrics/herzeleid#seemann) (seaman). I wanted to have this ending with Hakyeon committing suicide because he couldn't be with Hongbin (the song is really depressing), but for once in my life I decided some poor bastards in my fics deserved a happy ending, so that's what these two got. The pairing for this one was decided by my lovely followers on twitter—I put it to a vote and nbin won, which is a great thing since it's a woefully underrepresented ship and I hadn't really written anything of substance of it before. And it was fun!
> 
> As I said in the beginning, this is set in a fantasy land loosely (VERY LOOSELY) based off england, britain in general, and set very vaguely in the 19th century sometime. I borrowed a few celtic things, too; the language of the mermaids is welsh (sorry if I got anything wrong, i was going off google translate and a welsh-english dictionary since I don't know anyone irl who speaks it) and the vows that hongbin says to hakyeon when he gives him the dagger are Scottish (I believe). My stepfather is a sailor and I have gone sailing quite a few times so I didn’t have to do as much bonus research for this fic as I normally do, but looking at different kinds of boats was fun, so I did a lot of that LOL
> 
> anyway, in other news unrelated to fic, I lost my motivation for a while (only a month this time, which I'm not complaining about, since my longest spat of writer's block went on for three months!) but it's back now and I'm excited to be working on things—not just the next part of incubus (it's coming!) but also a few other projects I have stashed up my sleeve :3
> 
> as always, thank you for reading, and your kudos, and especially your comments. They mean a lot to me ♡


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